


(For you darling, I'll) hang the moon

by shadowsinwinter



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 18:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13980939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsinwinter/pseuds/shadowsinwinter
Summary: “If you’re not going to make time for me, then I’m leaving. Either you go, or I go. But either way, we are done.”wherein Chloe realises that staying married might be harder than even getting married in the first place, but also remembers why they got married in the first place.





	(For you darling, I'll) hang the moon

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from "hang the moon" from smash

When Chloe unlocks the door and stumbles back into her home, it’s nearly dawn. The house is quiet and dark and so, _so_ still, and for a moment, she thinks that Beca’s finally packed up her bags and left like she’d told – no, _screamed at_ – her to the previous afternoon. But then her eyes adjust to the dim light streaking in through their blinds, and she sees signs of her wife strewn carelessly everywhere in the living room – her coat is still slung over the couch, boots tossed carelessly just beside their front door, and her work papers spread across their dining table.

“Beca?” she whispers, but there’s no reply – not that she was expecting one at this time of the night. Quietly, she sets her papers down and makes her way to their bedroom, and when she peeks through the doorway, she is greeted by the sight of her wife lying on Chloe’s side of the bed, facing away from the door. Chloe pads into the room, taking a seat beside her, and Beca stirs slightly, but doesn’t wake.

Curled up on her side like this with both hands huddled to her chest, Beca looks even smaller than usual, and even though she’s asleep, Chloe can still see the frown on her face, accompanied by the tears still trickling out past her eyelids, leaving wet streaks across her face.

Even in her sleep, Beca is still crying.

Chloe feels her heart twist – with guilt, with sadness, and she can’t help herself. She rests her hand on Beca’s head, burying her fingers in soft brown curls, and watches tenderly as her wife relaxes slightly.

And then she begins singing softly to her.

“ _If our lives were a movie, I’d know what to do_  
_I’d write every scene with my heart_  
_An RKO picture that stars me and you, and this time I’d learn my part_  
_I’d paint you some scenery_  
_We’d sing and we’d dance, from morning to late afternoon_  
_And when that scene is done, then I’d take down the sun_  
_And for you darling, I’ll hang the moon_.”

She remembers their first day moving into their new apartment together.

They were so young then, fresh out of Barden and completely new to New York City. She remembers the mess they made trying to paint the apartment – when Beca turned around to ask her a question, she grinned and booped her right on her nose with her wet paintbrush, giggling at her girlfriend’s stupefied face.

The entire afternoon was wasted on an epic paint fight.

When they finally calmed down, she looked down at Beca, who was lying contentedly between her legs with her eyes closed, and the sight that greeted her took her breath away. The sunlight streaming in through the windows caught on Beca’s hair, turning it to gold, and she could see the light dusting on freckles across her cheeks. She traced them with a finger, and Beca opened her eyes, blinking quizzically at her.

“You’re staring.”

“You’re _beautiful_ ,” she replied, and she meant every word, even though they were both covered in paint, sweat and dust. She knew that other people found Beca attractive, of course – she’s had to fight off a couple of guys trying to pick her girlfriend up whenever they went out together – but this unguarded, relaxed, _soft_ Beca was something that only she ever got to see, and she cherished being the only person allowed behind Beca’s walls. “I _love_ you.”

Beca blushed under Chloe’s scrutiny, but smiled anyway. “Love you too.”

For a moment, there was silence, then.

“Let’s dance.”

“There’s no music,” Beca protested, but stood up obligingly when Chloe tugged at her.

“We can sing,” the redhead slid an arm around Beca’s waist, humming softly, and smiled when Beca joined her, their voices blending together to form one sweet melody.

It wasn’t much of a dance – they just stood there, Beca’s cheek resting against her shoulder as they swayed to their own beat, but as the sun sank beyond the horizon, casting their newly painted flat in dazzling hues of red and gold, Chloe took a mental picture of the moment.

It wasn’t much – a bare living room painted a pale yellow, furnished with one couch and one table, and two girls dancing to their own music – but it was perfect, because it was _theirs_.

 _“We’d wake up to sunshine, like lights on a set_  
_You’d reach out and there’d be my hand_  
_All they there’d be music, a perfect duet_  
_That flows from the white baby grand_  
_At night when you’re frightened, I’ll sing you to sleep_  
_The melodies from the songs that you love_  
_And to fill up the sky, past the clouds I would fly_  
_And for you daring, I’d hang the moon._  
_Hang the moon forever, so you’d never fear the darkness_  
_The darkness I’ve known_  
_Moon, protect this girl I love, so that she’ll never be alone, never alone._ ”

Chloe remembers the first time Beca let her walls crumble and truly confide in her.

They had been dating for a year, best friends for two, and she had never known about Beca’s nightmares until one night they decided to spend the night together, just snuggling in Chloe’s room and watching Netflix until they both drifted off to sleep.

She was shocked back into consciousness at 4a.m. in the morning by the sound of Beca crying out, almost right into her ear.

“Beca?” She mumbled groggily, turning to face the younger girl and receiving a slap right in her face for her troubles. “Ow, Becs!”

Reaching out, she turned on her bedside lamp and squinted as the brightness momentarily assaulted her eyes, before realising that Beca’s eyes were closed, but she was thrashing around in the bed, entangling herself within the sheets.

“Becs? Beca. Beca!” Chloe grabbed at her shoulders, trying to hold her down before she fell off the bed, and then – “Ouch, fuck!”

The brunette had shot up in the bed, her eyes flying open, her forehead making contact with Chloe’s chin with a crack that had both of them seeing stars.

Chloe ignored the pain, crawling forwards and taking Beca’s hands in hers, Beca was trembling. “Becs, darling, did you have a nightmare?”

“It’s the same one,” Beca choked out through hitching sobs. “It’s always the same one every single time.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” She fought the urge to yawn – her girlfriend needed her, and she would be damned if she went back to sleep and ignored her.

“It’s my mom,” Beca whispered, so quietly that Chloe almost didn’t hear her. “A drunk driver sped through a red light and ran her over in front of me when I was fourteen. I couldn’t do anything to stop it, Chlo, I just stood there and stared dumbly, watching the car come, I should have said something, pushed her out of the way, but I didn’t, I just watched uselessly as she _died_ , and I _didn’t do anything about it!_ I should’ve been the one who died. What kind of daughter just stands there and lets a drunk driver run over her parent? _I should have died!_ ” Her voice rose in volume until she was almost screaming, and she collapsed against Chloe, wailing, once she’s finished. Chloe ran her fingers through her hair, knowing that this action always calmed her down, though it was close to forty minutes before Beca’s crying slowed down to the occasional sniffles.

“Better?” Chloe whispered, and Beca nodded, her face still buried against Chloe’s shoulder. “Now, listen to me, darling. Your mother wouldn’t have wanted you to give up your life for her, okay?”

“But I –“

“No, shush now. I never met her, but I _know_ that she would have wanted you to stay alive. I know you still miss her, and there’s nothing to be ashamed about that, but she’s watching over you, and she’s proud of you, okay?”

Beca pulled back and met her eyes, and Chloe was stunned momentarily by the amount of fear, sadness, vulnerability, but also _faith_ in the dark blue depths. “Really?”

She sounded so hopeful and so childlike that Chloe’s heart broke for her.

“Really,” she kissed Beca’s forehead gently, fighting back her own tears. “Now, we’re gonna go back to sleep, we both need to rest.”

She saw the terror flash across Beca’s face.

“I’ll hold you,” she promised before her girlfriend could even say a word. “I’ll hold you, and sing you to sleep, and I’ll _always_ be here for you, especially when the nightmare comes back.”

Beca didn’t say a word, but the kiss she pressed against Chloe’s lips, though chaste, was soft and sweet and loving, and told Chloe all that she needed to know.

“ _If our lives were a movie, then you’d be the star_  
_‘Cause now I know the role I should play_  
_To applaud all you do, all the things that you are_  
_And just be there on opening day_  
_I know in the past that the lines were all wrong_  
_And the music was never in tune_  
_But the wish that I make is for just one more take_  
_Because then darling I’ll hang the moon.”_

She remembers the fight they had the previous afternoon.

It was about Beca’s work schedule – it was _always_ about Beca’s work schedule. She had never minded Beca’s odd hours before they had gotten married, but as her wife’s career as a music producer/singer took off, her record label began demanding for more of her time, and other singers began demanding to collaborate with her that she was starting to stagger home past midnight for days on end. Chloe worked the day shift at the vet, and this meant that by the time Beca finally returned, Chloe was already asleep, and when Chloe left for work, Beca was dead to the world. Weeks of cohabiting, but barely speaking to each other took its toll on their marriage, and Chloe finally cracked.

“This is not working out,” she announced over breakfast one morning, on the rare occasion that she didn’t have to be in work early, and Beca stiffened.

“What’s not working out?”

“This,” she gestured to herself, then Beca. “It’s just, I never see you around at home anymore and I just, I really miss you, y’know? Sometimes I think I see my coworkers more than I see my own wife.”

“I know, Red,” Beca sighed apologetically. “It’s just, work’s been really crazy so far, Taylor was in the studio just last week shrieking about working on a second album together since the first was such a hit, and Justin – Timerlake, not Bieber – emailed my manager yesterday, and apparently Katy wants to work with us too, so now we’ve got to rearrange Taylor’s schedule around just so that they don’t run into each other, and I –“

“This is the whole issue,” Chloe interrupted loudly. “You’re always at work, Becs, and even when you’re not at work, you’re still thinking about it. Where were you when I called you three days ago telling you that I got chewed out by my boss?”

“I was in the recording studio, you know phones aren’t allowed in there!”

“What about one week ago when I was crying because we had to put one of our long-time patients down? I called you four times, Beca, and it went to your voicemail _every single time_.”

“We were in a meeting with Haley Reinhart’s managers.” Beca’s voice was cold, and her eyes were blazing with barely contained anger. “I wanted to call you back as soon as I could, but it was late by the time we ended.”

Chloe recognised the tense shoulders, the scowl that settled on Beca’s face – recognised the signs that meant Beca’s walls were coming back up, and took a deep breath.

“I know you’re busy, darling,” she forced herself to relax, then smile gently. “But sometimes I just want to come home to my wife, is that too much to ask for?”

“No,” Beca’s shoulders slumped when Chloe reached over and touched her arm. “I’m sorry, I… I’ll try my best to make it home early more often.”

It wasn’t their last argument on this topic – they fought more often than not in the next five months, shouting matches that twice cumulated in very angry interruptions from their irate neighbours next door, until Chloe threw down her ultimatum that afternoon.

“If you’re not going to make time for me, then I’m leaving,” she heaved the words, dripping with anger and malice over at Beca, who suddenly went still, and felt a sick surge of triumph mixed with guilt, knowing that the words hit home. “Either you go, or I go. But either way, we are done.”

Chloe pulled off her wedding ring, watching her wife blanch and dive forwards to catch it when she tossed it on the table before walking out of the house. She could hear Beca scramble for her shoes through the door, could hear the telltale hitching breath that always warned her when Beca was about to break down, but at that moment, she was too angry to even _care_.

She was gone before Beca could even wrestle their door open and run after her.

“ _I’ll hang the moon above you_  
_So that you’ll never fear the darkness, the darkness of night_  
_Then you’ll know that I love you_  
_Each time that you feel the light, feel the light_  
_If our lives were a movie, then I’d cut away_  
_All the moments when I wasn’t there_  
_The scenes that are happy are all that will stay_  
_The rest will dissolve into air.”_

She continues crooning to Beca, her fingers combing through the messy brown locks even as Beca’s eyes flutter open, and she stares around the room dazedly before she focuses on Chloe.

“Chlo?” she whispers, her voice thick with tears, and reaches out tentatively with one hand to touch Chloe’s cheek. Chloe leans into the soft touch, turning to press a kiss against her wife’s palm. “Chlo. I’m not dreaming, am I? You’re home.”

She sounds so disbelieving that Chloe breaks then, pulling her still half-asleep wife into her embrace and burying her face into her shoulder. They’re both crying openly now, she can feel the younger woman’s tears soaking into her shirt before she pulls away, leaning her forehead against Beca’s.

“I’m sorry for leaving,” she murmurs, feeling slightly sick at herself for having done so – in her anger, she’d exploited Beca’s greatest fear of being abandoned, and honestly, she wouldn’t blame Beca if she never forgives her for it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, _so_ sorry. I love you, Becs, I love you so damn much.”

“It was my fault,” Beca whimpers instead. “I shouldn’t have spent so much time focused on my work.”

“You’re passionate about music. You love it! I would be stupid to take it away.”

“I love music, but I love you more,” her wife tells her shyly, a smile – a very tearful one, but a smile nonetheless – gracing her features. “I emailed my boss earlier and told him that I’ll be dropping both Katy and Taylor’s albums, another producer can handle them.”

“But –“

“My workload was getting insane,” she reaches out with one hand, and Chloe laces their fingers together. “I told him that I’ll be taking a month off after this last album is done, too.”

“And he agreed?” Chloe’s glad to hear it, but at the same time, slightly doubtful – she’s met Beca’s boss before, and if Beca is a workaholic, that man is three times as bad as she is.

“He had no choice,” the corner of Beca’s lips quirk up into a smirk. “I threatened to quit. He couldn’t afford to lose his best producer.”

“You could have lost your job!” she gasps, horrified, but her wife merely shrugs.

“I can find another job, easy. And spending time with you is always worth it.” Beca glances away, down at the hand not currently entwined with Chloe’s, and bites her lip nervously. “Chlo?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry that we fought because I was an ass. Will you ever forgive me?”

“Oh, Becs,” she leans down and presses a kiss to their joined hands. “I – there’s nothing to forgive. I’m sorry for walking out on you. On us.”

“But you came back,” Beca whispers wonderingly. “You came home to _me_.”

She holds out her hand, opening her clenched fist, and Chloe has to bite back a sob.

Beca had been hugging her ring to her chest as she’d slept, hoping against hope that Chloe would return home. Return to her.

“Do you – I mean, will you –“ She stumbles over her words, then falls silent as Chloe touches the silver band reverently, before picking it up and sliding it back onto her finger.

“It belongs here,” she holds out her hand to Beca, who’s watching her every move wide-eyed, tears falling silently down her cheeks. She is aware that she’s weeping as well, and has to take a steadying breath before she can continue. “It has always belonged here – from the moment we sang together in the shower back in Barden, I knew that I loved you, and that one day, if I was lucky enough, I would marry you. It will _always_ belong here, no matter how much we argue, because I won’t ever stop loving you. I _never_ stopped loving you, even when I walked out and made you feel like I didn’t. Being your wife was the greatest honour I could ever ask for, and darling, that will never, _ever_ change.”

She presses a gentle, tender kiss to Beca’s temple as her wife sags against her in relief, using the pads of her thumbs to try and wipe the tears away. Beca merely smiles and shakes her head.

“These are happy tears,” she tells Chloe, stifling a yawn. The sun is already sliding up over the horizon, and they’re both _exhausted_. “Can we…”

“Yeah, we’re going to sleep,” Chloe is about to slide under the covers with Beca when she remembers something and stands up.

“Where are you going?”

She hates that she’s the cause of the sudden panic in Beca’s voice, and kneels before her. “I’m calling off work for both of us today, we could both use a break, okay?”

“Okay,” her wife nods, but she’s not fooled – she can see the apprehension in Beca’s eyes, and knows that the younger woman is terrified that she’ll leave again.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she reassures her, almost tripping over her own feet when she hurries out of the bedroom. She shoots off a quick text to both her boss and Beca’s, then spots the papers that she’s looking for.

She picks the divorce papers up from the table, glances through them once.

“Chlo?” She hears a scared call from their bedroom, and tosses them into the shredder that Beca uses for her work documents and turns it on before returning to her wife. They won’t be needing them anyway – there is nothing that they can’t fix together.

“Will you sing to me?” Beca asks later, when they’re both back under the covers, Chloe wrapped protectively around her smaller figure.

“Yeah,” Chloe kisses the nape of her neck. She would do anything for her wife, so long as it can convince her that she will never leave again. “What do you want me to sing?”

“You didn’t finish the song earlier.”

“Oh, yeah,” she begins singing quietly, feeling Beca’s breaths slow down as she falls asleep, and she kisses her again. “Sleep well, my love.”

“ _As the final reel ends, we might both shed a tear_  
_For the ending is coming up soon_  
_But when the screen fades to black, we can smile and look back_  
_And for you darling,_  
_I’ll hang the moon.”_

**Author's Note:**

> i edited some of the lyrics to fit the context here, but it's still a great song anyway and you guys should go give it a listen!  
> hope you guys liked my fic, feel free to leave comments :)


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